


Nerves

by secretkeeper13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fade to Black, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:22:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27047911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretkeeper13/pseuds/secretkeeper13
Summary: Ginny’s new Quidditch kit arrives, and what follows is not what Harry expects.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 9
Kudos: 96





	Nerves

**Author's Note:**

> This little bit of fluff was inspired by the the illustrations of the Quidditch uniforms in the new Quidditch Through the Ages. Thank you to the always kind TheDistantDusk for reading it through and giving me the confidence to post.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, Harry’s favorite time of the week. He sat on the new leather sofa in the sitting room at Grimmauld Place, listening to Lee Jordan’s show on the wireless and sipping a bottle of Butterbeer. His arm rested on the back of the sofa around Ginny, who was curled up into his side, reading the paper. 

Harry was content to laze about for the rest of the afternoon. Maybe he and Ginny would go out to dinner later. Ron and Hermione had gone over to her parents for lunch, so the house was still and quiet. In fact, Harry thought, Ginny was unusually quiet. He missed her usual chatter and commentary on the articles in the Prophet. 

A light tapping sounded from the front window and interrupted his thoughts. A tawny owl clutching a large parcel wrapped in brown paper sat on the sill. 

Harry rose, opened the window, and took the package from the owl. The gold and green seal of the Holyhead Harpies was embossed on the wrapping. 

“It’s for you, Gin,” he said, handing her the parcel. 

She smiled as she took it. “Oh, it’s probably my kit. I had my fitting the other day. They said they’d be sending it home for me to try on once they’d finished.” 

“I can’t believe the opener is going to be next week already,” said Harry. 

“Me either, although training camp this summer felt like it took ages.” 

She tore open the paper wrapping to reveal folded fabric in dark green. 

“I’ll take it upstairs to change,” she said, rising from the couch. 

“You can change in here, I won’t mind,” Harry grinned, lifting an eyebrow at her. 

She laughed. “I’m sure you wouldn’t, but my boots are upstairs. And I want the full effect,” she said tossing her long hair loftily over her shoulder. 

She picked up the still-folded uniform and walked towards the stairs. Harry stood and followed her.

“You’re coming up?” Ginny asked, a hint of a surprise evident in her tone. 

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to miss you in your kit for the first time,” Harry smiled. 

Ginny looked pleased, and her cheeks flushed slightly at his words. 

“And I want the full effect,” Harry teased, climbing the stairs behind her, “boots and all.”

As Harry climbed the stairs, his eyes were drawn to the swell of her bum. Ginny had a fantastic arse. The first time he saw her naked, the two dimples above her arse had practically ended the evening for him before he’d even taken off his pants. 

When they reached the first floor landing and entered their bedroom, Ginny grabbed her boots and headed towards the en suite to change.

Harry raised his eyebrows at her. Ginny wasn’t modest. In fact, she was one of the least self-conscious people he knew.

She saw his look and chuckled. “Well, if you’re going to all the trouble to come up here, the least I can do is give you a proper reveal,” she said, and winked at him as she closed the door. 

Harry sat on the bed, on top of the white duvet, smiling to himself as he thought of the upcoming season opener. He couldn’t wait to watch Ginny play in a professional match. Not to mention after the match. Ginny’s post-Quidditch euphoria had already led to some of their best shags, and that had only been after practice sessions. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Ginny’s voice sounded from behind the door and broke the silence, interrupting Harry’s (increasingly dirty) thoughts. 

“Everything all right?” Harry called.

“I can’t believe this bloody skirt.”

“Hard to tell what’s wrong with it from behind a closed door,” Harry called back, wondering what the issue was. 

The door to the ensuite suddenly opened, and when Harry saw her, any coherent thoughts he had were gone. Ginny stood in the doorway, anger flashing in her eyes, red hair swept out of her face, wearing a sleeveless, dark green kit emblazoned with a bright gold talon in the center. The neckline, trimmed in gold, cut in a v-shape down towards Ginny’s cleavage. Another band of gold trim snaked around her small waist, forming a v-shape at the center that pointed down towards the shortest, tightest skirt Harry had ever seen Ginny wear (outside of in the bedroom). A green and gold cape attached to the back of the waist, the hem of which skimmed the back of her calves. The dark green mini skirt stopped well above mid-thigh, revealing almost all of Ginny’s toned legs in the front. 

He felt himself growing hard at the sight of her. She was always gorgeous, but she looked undeniably sexy in the kit. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to take her against the wall and snog her right then and there. But he could tell she was upset. 

“How the fuck am I meant to play Quidditch in this?” Ginny asked, her eyes narrowed, her tone annoyed, bordering on outright anger. “It barely covers my bits.” 

Harry’s eyes followed as her hand motioned to the skirt and down her legs. He tried not to think of the expanse of creamy skin in front of him, and what the skirt was barely covering. 

Harry swallowed. He wanted to try to make her feel better about it. He always wanted to try to make things better for her. 

“You look fantastic. I know it’s different from the uniforms at Hogwarts, but I’m sure you’ll get used to it in time.” 

“It’s ridiculous that we have to play in skirts,” Ginny spat disdainfully. “I told Gwenog as much during the fitting. But it’s ‘Harpies’ tradition.’” She snorted. “I’m sure the skirt tradition has got nothing to do with it helping ticket sales to have our arses hanging out.”

Harry thought of Ginny, straddling a broomstick, wearing the kit. He desperately needed a trouser adjustment. But he tried to push his randy thoughts away to offer reassurance.

“Well, the cape covers your bum, at least, if you’re worried about that,” he offered.

Ginny scoffed and rolled her eyes at his feeble attempt. “The cape isn’t going to lie flat when I’m flying around at top speed, Harry,” she retorted, and there was a bite to her tone instead of her usual teasing humor. 

He was unable to help himself from imagining Ginny, bent low over her broom, the cape flapping behind her, her rounded, pert arse sticking up in the tiny skirt. He had to bite back a moan. 

Ginny exhaled loudly and swept a hand through her hair. Her eyes were shinier than usual, almost as if she were holding back tears. Harry tried not to focus on the contrast of her silky, coppery hair next to the dark green of the uniform. It really wasn’t like Ginny to get so worked up over something like this. 

He stepped off the bed, and walked over to her, pulling her to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, and he rested his chin on the top of her head. 

“What’s really bothering you?” He asked softly, as he gently stroked her back. “You’re the most confident person I know. Something like this wouldn’t normally upset you this much.” 

She sighed and looked up at him. The little line that appeared on her forehead when she was worried was there, and there was a look of concern in her warm, brown eyes. 

“I know it’s silly. I never care about idiotic rumors in the press, but... they’re already implying that I only made first team because I’m Harry Potter’s girlfriend. I just want to prove I’m there on my own merit, you know? And if I’m worrying about flashing my arse to everyone instead of scoring goals, I know my game will be off.” 

Harry felt guilt welling up inside him. He knew all the extra rubbish that she had to deal with because she was in a relationship with him. He knew that since she left Hogwarts, she’d been hounded by the press, faced prying stares from strangers, and been the subject of not-so-quietly-whispered gossip. And he hated it. 

As if she read his thoughts, Ginny pulled back slightly, reached up, and gently placed her palm against his cheek. “None of that is your fault though, love.”

She paused, biting her lip, and dropped her hand to rest on his chest. Harry could tell she was on the verge of sharing something, so he waited. 

“I’m just really nervous about the first match,” she said, her words tumbling out in a rush. “I want to perform well, and I’m scared that I won’t.” 

“Hey,” he said, as he stroked a strand of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear, looking into her eyes, “Of course you’re nervous. You’d be barmy if you weren’t feeling a bit anxious about it, yeah? But you’re a brilliant player, Gin. You had offers from lots of teams. Gwenog was really pleased with you during training camp.” 

She nodded, and he could see her face start to visibly relax. 

“You’re going to be great,” he said firmly. “And I can’t wait to watch you play,” he added. 

At this, Ginny lips quirked up into a grin. “I know you can’t wait to watch. I saw your face when I opened the door earlier, you know.” 

Harry laughed. “Was I that obvious?”

“Yes. Your eyes get this glazed look,” Ginny grinned, as she did a far too accurate impersonation of him. 

Harry pulled her closer until she was pressed up against him. “Well, I can’t help it,” he murmured low into her ear, his lips grazing her neck. “You look,” he kissed her neck, “incredibly,” he he moved his lips down to her pulse point, “sexy.”

At his last kiss, she inhaled sharply and let out a breathy little moan. He was hard (again), and he pressed himself against her, relishing the contact. 

“It’s like all my sixth-year Quidditch fantasies came to life,” he continued murmuring as he kissed down to her collarbone. “I think I’ve held myself together very well, considering.” 

“Considering what?” she deadpanned. 

“Considering all I’ve been thinking about is what you’re wearing under the skirt.” 

“Ahhh,” Ginny smirked, pulling back and running her hand lightly down Harry’s chest and stopping at his belt buckle. “Normally, we’ve got these little shorts for under.” Harry swallowed, the image of Ginny in tiny green shorts burning in his mind. She moved her hand across the waistband of his trousers nonchalantly. He groaned at her light touch. “But I didn’t bother with those today since I was just trying it on,” she finished, looking up at him with that blazing look. 

At that, Harry lost any semblance of control. He pulled her closer, cupped her jaw, and then crashed his lips onto hers, kissing her passionately as she pushed him backwards towards the bed. 

What followed was perhaps the most intense shag they’d ever had. And that was saying something, Harry thought, as Ginny lay naked next to him, her head resting on his chest. 

“You know,” Ginny said, as her hand traced lazy circles on his bicep, “I really don’t think the skirts on the others’ uniforms are that short.”

Harry glanced down at the discarded kit that now lay on the bedroom floor. He’d wanted her to keep it on, but the damn cape got in the way. 

Ginny continued, “I had the poster of Gwenog on my wall for years, and her bits were more than barely covered.”

“Maybe they pinned the length up wrong at your fitting?” 

“You may be right. I’ll have to talk to Martin in equipment,” Ginny said, and then she let out a horrified groan. 

“What?”

“I should’ve known. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this earlier.” 

Harry, who was still lost, looked at her quizzically. 

“Well, Martin’s got a bit of a thing for me,” Ginny said, in a casual, matter-of-fact tone, as if she were discussing the weather, and not lying on his naked body, talking about another man fancying her. 

Harry raised his eyebrows. His chest monster, which had laid dormant for a long time, suddenly perked its head up. “Erm, elaborate please?” 

“Martin’s been the Harpies equipment manager for ages. I think he’s 80 years old. It’s his last season with us- he’s supposed to retire this year.”

Harry, who had already been envisioning Martin as a handsome and muscular bloke in his 20s, relaxed considerably. 

“Anyways,” Ginny continued, still stroking Harry’s arm, “His wife passed away a couple years back, and he’s mentioned that she had red hair like mine, so I think he’s got a soft spot for me because of that. He’s always so sweet to me, and makes sure I’ve got the kind of gloves I like, things like that. During the fitting, he was going on about how he liked the old kits better because they ‘showed off the legs.’ I didn’t think anything of it at the time.”

“So, the eighty-year-old equipment manager had your uniform hemmed shorter because he’s got a thing for pretty redheads,” Harry said, laughing as he stroked Ginny’s hair. 

“That about sums it up, I think,” Ginny said, smiling up at him. 

“Martin’s a bit of a perv,” Harry said, though he couldn’t help but grin. “But I’m not complaining about the skirt.”

“I’ll tell him to add a few inches back on to the hem when I bring it back in tomorrow,” Ginny said, nuzzling into Harry.

“Be sure to send Martin my regards,” Harry smirked. “And tell him I look forward to meeting him at the opener.” 

Ginny laughed, and Harry was relieved to see that any traces of her earlier anxiety were gone. He leaned down to kiss her, and as he rolled her on top of him, he set about showing her just how enthusiastic of a fan he would be.


End file.
